Irken Property
by cupidity11
Summary: Part One of the Knotted series: Enemies through Allies. From the moment Zim stepped into Dib's 5th grade classroom, things were off kilter. Hatred bloomed and for years they've stood against each other as glorious enemies in the battle for Earth. But, times are changing and throughout their journey they may be forced to become more.
1. Fighting but, Fitting

A.N.:

I know that a lot of people hate ZaDr. It's understandable considering that many authors make it OOC and Mary-Sueish. I know that it seems impossible and a lunatic idea at best. But, it's my opinion that it's all one big circle for them. Complicated. It's a big knot of hatred, loyalty, companionship...ect.

I know for a fact that IF such a thing between them were to ever happen it wouldn't be kissing and hugging. It wouldn't be cute and perfect. The very idea is ridiculous. If anything of that level were to happen between them it would be complicated, twisted, confusing, and interspersed with hatred.

And any relationship needs TONS of character development. Especially one as wonderfully stupid, so great and improbable as Zim and Dib's.  
So, here...I give it to you. Character development of the mind. Of personalities and based solely on what I've predicted on what they could be. Continuing rivalry. A possible friendship. And the impossible partnership.

A scarred, scabbed fist is thrown out of temper and the rest is history. The tiny nuclear mole named Zim dodges, ducks away from the certain blow. With a war cry only an irken elite whose experienced death can manage, he flies at his opponent.

It's rough, raw. It's split knuckles, bloody noses and grunts of pain. It's nothing but a primal domination game.  
And it's wonderful.

They fight to the death (or more likely until they end up exhausted and broken on the black pavement). It's a dance made out of searing intensity, fast swirling heated gazes, steps that have been memorized and hatred strong enough to rival any love.

Dib sees every move his enemy makes. He could easily move out of the way of sharp teeth made for cutting through tough meat, and deadly accurate claws. He does not.

The razor edges cut deep into his ivory flesh. It stings like salt in open wounds. Like being kicked when you're down. And it disturbs the pool of numbness that surrounds Dib. That's what he'd been searching for. It's perfect. Perfect and personal on a level so great, that no one else could ever hope to comprehend .

Maroon blood is seeping into the earth and Zim knows it's just returning to its source. Dib IS Earth. The only thing worth having, taking, possessing.  
Their battle lasts only as long as one of them can keep their heads from touching the black top.

The human is grabbing at any form of weakness; antenna which are hidden as usual underneath a black, itchy wig, and even below the belt. Of course it all ends up with Dib getting bitten and the hook like claws digging in deeper. Blood spills.

Azure as the moonlight, almost clear with a scent that would almost be indescribable if it wasn't for sugar. And there's the scarlet that pools and drips like thickened water. The kind of rusty, incredible salty smell mixes together with the sugar to create a aroma that is unlike any other ever known. It's theirs. The scent of their war.

It's over a lot sooner than either of them would most likely prefer. The two enemies lay bleeding, broken, bruised on the cooling street in the middle of it to be precise. The street lights flicker in the near dark of a amethyst evening, as if afraid to stay on too long and invoke their wrath.

It's silent but for heavy breathing and course curses from Dib. And despite the fact that he would be completely worthless for a few days as his body healed itself, Dib had never felt better. There was a deep seated relish in these battles. The fact that no one else could match him so perfectly in everything there was to be matched in. Their fists and harsh words spelled out everything that would ever need to be said.


	2. Symbiant

symbiosis  
[sim′bē·ō′sis]  
Etymology: Gk, syn, together, bios, life  
1 a mode of living characterized by a close association between organisms of different species.  
2 a state in which two people are emotionally dependent on each other.

Never spoken of, never thought about or whispered in nights of pure loneliness when the crickets chirped and they sat together on top of his roof, the stars their only real source of light. The night was a shield from many things, mostly the reality that was their odd relationship. Because when the daylight broke the horizon and the birds replaced the insects in their singing, Zim and Dib became enemies again. At least in their minds this was true.

But, as their teacher Miss. Bitters, reluctantly taught, some relationships were unavoidable. The two creatures, always from separate species fed off of each other. Needed one and other for survival. The clown fish and the sea anemone. Flowers and the honey bees.

Unlikely and oh-so different, the creatures depended on the other for survival. It had been that way since time had brought them together.

Zim growled when the laser never cut through the human's flesh, for the Dib always had something of use to him and when all was said and done the idea of not having an enemy, of someone not being there to gasp at all the right moments of his evil plots, of never seeing the golden eyes that screamed the hatred that was never ending. Yes, Dib's death had to be spectacular; it had to be fitting and mighty for one such as him. No ordinary shot to the brain would do.

Dib lifted the unconscious irken off the ground, frowning as he did so. The water was still eating away at the moron's skin, and it never occurred to him to leave his enemy there. Human compassion went too far, his out of place loyalty and urges to treat Zim with hope that he himself would one day have the favor returned. Because if Zim was injured then it meant that it would take longer for him to get back up and fight. It would means days of boredom and more minutes to count until they met again.

They always returned to point A, denying the need to see the other fall. The even bigger need to see the other stand back up again and laugh. The cover up the fate of Earth when neither really cared about the orb of idiots and trash. But, what else could be a good excuse to keep meeting?

Stumbled upon point B once or twice, to begin to recognize the other's favorite foods and the crooked tilt to his smile, the smallest words that lit their eyes with joy. Then something happened and they couldn't stand each other, the way they twisted their words around to mean one thing. The hatred was returned, welcome and viciously they fought until someone bled out on the floor, near to death and mouth shut to avoid any noise of surrender.

Then common sense, their own individual excuse kicked in and they rescued their enemy from the death they had almost certainly caused.

A messed up cycle that kept repeating, repeating, repeating because Dib hated himself and his peers, his father who ignored him, the voices in his head that sounded like those monsters. Zim was the thing, the vile stupid thing, that made the doubts and fears disappear in a blast of vitality and distractions. The alien was the bad guy, and Dib was the hero, the savior.

It repeated and repeated and repeated because Zim hated himself and his people who laughed at him behind his back, even as denial was a wonderful tool to have at your disposal. Hated his henchmen who could never do anything right. It just reminded Zim of how things used to be on Irk and how it used to be in the academy. How he could never do anything correctly either.

But, then out of the corner of his eye he would catch a glimpse of that meat sack and the worries would fly out the window, replaced with the conviction to destroy the planet, adrenaline to fight back with someone equally matched in everything he could throw at him. Zim could be destructive and defective and the human thought it came naturally for him, thought it was a threat and more than just stupidity as well as bad genes.

Yes, because even if they wanted to be free of one another, there was more need to be stuck together forever, in the cycle that was becoming fastly common place.

Ms. Bitters kept talking and talking, it was a drone in Dib's ears, in Zim's antenna, as they sent each other sly glances. Their organs clenched with the welcome feeling of hatred, hands shook as the clocked ticked, closer to the time they could stand and battle out the latest argument.

Neither heard the word that their horrible teacher used to describe such relationships that happened between two species, "Symbiant."


	3. The Red Sky

_And Gym class._

_'I hate him.'_

_'His head. It's…huge. Like a hippo. Only bigger.'_

_'I really hate him.'_

_'Jet plane size maybe? Eh.'_

_'Freaking alien menace.'_

_'Oh wow. It's like throwing him off balance.'_

Zim snickers at his own mental humor, not bothering to hide it as per usual. Dib hears it and glowers in the moron's direction. Instinct tells him that he is the subject of the alien's amusement. They were panting heavily as they ran around the track for 3rd period gym class. Their fellow classmates zoomed past them, giving the freaks a wide berth just in case they wanted to get physical which more often than not was the case.

"Shut up, Space-Boy."

"You don't even know what Zim is laughing about, Stink Brain."

"My head."

"Lucky guess."

"Mmhmm. Whatever. After," Dib gasps for air, as they turn the corner on their final lap. "this hell, I'm gonna pound your face in." Zim managed to wave off the threat, trying to look unaffected by the exercise. Really how did the Earthlings manage to create a training experience more grueling than the academy's own 'Leg Crusher 2000'?

"You will not," Gasp, "touch my perfect face." Their feet hit the track at the same time, the same pace with the same sound of rubber hitting pavement.

"Oh, I" Pant. "Will, you moron."

"Nuh uh! You lie!" Everyone else was already at the finish line, waiting for the two freaks reluctantly. The coach held his timer up in the air as a warning that they had ten seconds left in the countdown until they had to run a whole extra lap. Dib's competitive instincts kicked in (as well as the severe desire to not run another inch) and he zoomed ahead. Zim wasn't far behind. He would never let the human beat him.

"Five seconds, whelps!"

Dib and Zim passed the finish line with 1.3 seconds to spare. They also were on the ground hitting each other with quickly weakening energy. Now that they had finished the other kids sighed with obvious relief and began to walk off down the hill to head back inside their Skool, while the boys wrestled. Dib gave one last flimsy punch that did little of anything to his enemy before falling backwards into the grass, breathing harshly, so harshly that it hurt Zim's hidden antenna.

"I…hate…you." He hacked a cough; green grass tickled his pinkened ears. Zim scowled sideways at the human, feeling like his squeedely spooch was going to burst with exertion.

"Hate you…more." Together they stared up at the red sky, breathing slowly in and out, pulses thundering. It was almost nice. There was no other noise escape for the air coming from their lungs, wind and the distant noise of traffic…and the bell rang signaling that 4th period had ended. Dib grunted and sat up feeling a head rush come on and it made him wince. Zim's eyes shot open from where they had wilted closed from how relaxed he'd been. Disguised irises warily regarded his enemy who seemed to be finally be recovering. 'Pity.' Zim thought.

"Come on, Space-Boy." The human struggled to stand up, brushing grass blades and dirt from his behind and hair."If we hurry we might be able to make it to 5th period." Zim's forehead furrowed when the boy's glasses reflected the hideous sun into his eyes. From this angle he could see every shade of amber and brown in the Dib's filthy irises. With an obviously displeased grunt the almighty Zim shoved himself to his feet and walked over to Dib who had been waiting impatiently. Together they made their way down the hill and towards the school.


	4. Bickering is an Art

_That only we've perfected._

Back and forth the insults flew. A rhythm that rivaled any song. It was perfected, trusted and easy. There was violence in the words but an underlying normality that anyone other than the two of them would never see or feel. Nearly eight years together, their yelling had become a constant. The fights had grown pathetic and while the hatred was obviously still there it had lessened considerably. Without noticing they had come to mean something so much more than enemies. They finished each other's sentences, knew every excuse, every weakness. There was an amount of trust there. Zim would never let Dib die unless under his hand and Dib, well Dib just wanted to be the one to expose Zim for what he truly was. Or at least that was the façade. They knew that as long as their fight continued neither would ever be in danger from anyone else.

So, yes, the screams of rage and sly sarcasm and pithy statements all developed into a intricate pattern of expressions, tones of voice, body movement. The alien and the human knew the pattern like a large scar. The beginning had been painful, bloody and reckless. The time had passed and seasons and years went by. The scar healed over and now it was always there as a reminder of what they had once been and what they were now.

Enemies of the worst kind. Sworn, mortal, destined. Their minds challenged each other, their physical strength rivaled one and others and to top it all off they annoyed the living crap of each other. In every way they were incompatible and yet…

Zim's eyes, disguised of course, narrowed in pure rage, they shone their distrust in the direction of a certain teenager who walked by his side, hands in his ragged jean pockets and a shit-eating grin plastered in a face made of sleepless nights. The leaves scattered out of their way.

"Oh why you little—" Zim ground out, hands clenching as if already feeling themselves wrapping around Dib's neck.

"No, no. You will find that you are the little one here, Mr. 4 feet 2 inches." The human shot back, a rock becoming his victim as it shot out from under his swift kick and skidded across the street to never be seen or thought of again.

The alien's rage was palpable now. "LIES! Zim has grown several earth inc—" He stopped himself, mentally reminding himself not to get off track. It was very hard to think rationally though when the human was so Irk damn annoying. "Stink-Brain! Cease distracting me! You know full well that the behavior earlier was unacceptable!"

Dib raised a brunette eyebrow. "Um. Excuse me? What behavior?" Casual question, for a less than casual accusation. The beginning. The low rumble. A bass that you feel low in your stomach, or in this rare case squeedely spooch. Anticipation that really shouldn't be there. That should've withered out long ago. But, it's been years and it's been wonderful.

Zim growled, and Dib could almost see the crimson shining out from behind Zim's contacts. The tiny invader took one giant (or rather giant for him, about a foot) step towards the human and poked his skinny, bony chest with a gloved finger adamantly. "The behavior of a typical moronic human! You were being…normal." Zim shivered in revulsion at the thought but recovered himself quickly. "And THAT!" He poked harder. A splash of paint. A swift bang on a drum. "THAT behavior will not continue!"

Dib usually had no problem keeping his cool. In fact, he was a very patient person. He'd had no choice in learning to be one. But, the pokes with sharp claws, a head ache he'd already had before the alien had opened his fat mouth and the fact that he'd been acting supposedly 'normal' because it had started out as a good day and he'd actually talked to the new kid who wasn't so bad and he had no idea yet that Dib was a freak. A real friend was in reach. Who knows maybe um…Jim? John? Jacob? Eh, it didn't matter. Whoever they were, they might even stick around after the rumors began to reach him.

Dib liked that idea immensely. But, here Zim was, sticking his nose, well his lack of nose into DIB'S business. "Shut up, you over grown lizard! I can do whatever I want. You don't control me—" Zim scowled harder and stepped closer into the human's personal area. The drum was rolling, the bass heavy…paint dripped steadily, the stage was prepped for the first act.

"And that is where you are WRONG, Monkey-Brain! Zim owns you! He owns the World and everything in it! Including you!" A hard poke to the middle of His human's nose. His. Then there was the explosion.

"The world is not yours! You—you, I hate you, you narcissistic moron! None of this is yours! It doesn't belong to anyone! Especially not you! And I don't have to do anything you tell me! You're not my friend, you're not even an acquaintance!"

"As if, Dib-Crazy! I would never wish to be friends with someone like you. Zim doesn't need friends for one and for two,"

"It's secondly, Stupid."

"SILENCE!"

"NO!" Dib growled, his left eye twitching. This was normally a cue. Time for someone to throw the first punch. And within seconds someone did. Whoever did it didn't matter. All that mattered was the swift movements in between the fists flying, the dramatic swings and the words exchanged in between. They had a rhythm to them and it was perfected, down to the last syllable.

They ended as they normally did; panting heavily, wiping off the excess blood and luxuriating in the after math of their violence, admiring their handy work…their work of art. Dib glared down at the smear of bright red on his hand where he'd whipped off his bottom lip. There was also a few drops of pink alien blood mingling together. His mind wandered as Zim began his normal after-fight rant, to John or Jacob or Jim. In the end it didn't matter, he decided. HE didn't matter.

What other person would ever understand the beauty of this? Who wanted fake friends who stabbed you in the back? He would much rather have a real enemy who stabbed him in the front, with a sadistic smile.


	5. Another Counselor, part 1

It was a Wednesday which was a good enough explanation as any for why everyone was irritable. This day was always hell which made it an especially busy one for Miss. Pike the schools newest counselor in a long line of them. Ever since Mr. Dwicky had gone AWOL nearly four years ago, the school couldn't seem to keep any counselor employed for more than a year. They all quit or went missing or in one memorable occasion became a mental patient himself.

They all came in with a sunny disposition and good intentions. That was before they met the kids and saw the state that the school was kept in. The environment was a toxic one that many didn't last long in. Not unless you already had a bit of a screw lose.

It was Miss. Pike's first month here and she was cleaning out records, going through them. All of them were…extensive. Many an inch thick with misdemeanors, disciplinary actions, and previous illnesses and special needs. A few were rather interesting and might need urgent care.

Her fingers slid over the folders to a book in the very back. It was like it had been shoved there between the rest of the files. With a bit of difficulty, Pike managed to pry the book from the shelf only to realize a second later that it wasn't a book but, a student's permanent record.

Mouth agape, she heaved onto the desk where a cloud of dust billowed up. Coughing softly, Pike opened the file that was bolted together, to the first page. Many words popped put at her; _anti-social, extensive bullying, anxiety disorder, neglectful childhood'_. Nothing good. But, nothing unsalvageable. Still, the rest of the afternoon was spent reading up on what she expected would be her most troublesome 'patient',

-  
Quickly, Miss. Pike discovered that no one came to the counselor willingly. And she had a lot to do, reorganizing things and trying to clean the place up. But, within the first three weeks at school, not one person came to her with a problem. This was significant. This was Highskool. Highskool was a practical battlefield and not only that but, the first months were the worst while kids tried to adapt to a new year.

She chalked it up to lack of knowledge about a counselor and maybe these kids were just used to this environment that it didn't bother them anymore. In her spare time, she read the files. But, more specifically THE File. Dib's file. She was only halfway through the book when she decided she should check up on him. From the text, many ideas already swarmed in her head about how to help him.

But, there was also this…Person(?), who seemed to take up just as much room in the file as Dib's name did; Zim. The idea entered her head to call him down as well, but she quickly discarded it. They obviously did not like each other and her first session with Dib should be private. Another day.

So during his Study Hall period, she sent a pass down. A few minutes later, there was a tentative knock at the door.

"Come in!" Pike responded, sitting up straight and ready. The door creaked open and the boy who stepped through was nothing like his picture that was stapled to the corner of the file. That boy in the photo was young, eyes filled with curiosity and innocence. That boy was short, holding onto the last vestiges of baby fat and youth.  
This boy, the one who stood uncertainly in the doorway was tall. Taller than her anyway and skinny as a stick. Like he forgot to eat nearly all the time. Pale and freckled, long limbs covered with draping black fabric and useless buckles.

Dib's hair was wild and luckily just like the picture but for its length which had grown. His face was impassive, closed off and pierced in several places. This Dib had eyes that flickered everywhere suspiciously, studying his surroundings. Paranoid and self conscious.

"What am I here for?" Dib asked, in a low voice that was still growing in. "I haven't done anything wrong. That food fight was his fault." Miss. Pike blinked a few times then smiled, hoping it looked sincere and warm.

"No, no. You're not in any trouble. I'm Miss. Pike." She stood and held out her hand. Dib eyed it uncertainly for a few seconds before shaking it for about a half a second. "I'm the new counselor."

Wide brown eyes widened with understanding. "Oh." Pause as he looked around the place he'd been in more times than he could count. It was clean, for once. Sparsely decorated. But, warm with several baskets of what looked like toys and coloring books. Plenty of tissues too. "Good luck."

"Um, thank you." She smiled and went back behind her desk to sit in the rolling chair there. "Dib. Do you have any idea why I called you down?" A manicured hand gestured towards a chair in front of the desk. He licked his lips and sat.

"Uh. You saw my record." Dib replied gravely.

"Yep." Pike said, grabbing the book and heaving it in front of them. The boy had a sudden moment of déjà vu. "It's pretty big."

"I guess." Dib looked anywhere but at the file.

"Look, Dib, it's not a bad thing. This file." She grabbed a slinky and began playing with it.

"It's not?" Skeptically, he watched her, eyebrow raised.

"Not at all! You have problems. But, everyone does. You've had a tough past and that's no—"

"Can I stop you right there?" Dib interrupted, brow furrowed. "Sorry, but my 'past' wasn't tough. My present isn't tough. And hell my future won't be tough either." She opened her mouth but, he held up his hand. She fell silent, obediently. "That stuff," Dib looked down his nose at the file. "Is all true. I'm bullied every day. People hate me because I'm smart and attractive but, I don't do anything about it. I'm rich but, I don't spend it on clothes and fancy parties. They don't like how I dress or act or talk, so they hate me. I'm okay with that. Why try to impress somebody who you know will never like you for you?"

She wanted to encourage but, he was still going. Pike figured that this what the file talked about when it said_ 'tends to go on rants when provoked'_. "My Dad is never home. Like I think he's at work 354 days out of the year. And when he is home, he works in his lab. I love my dad. He's ignorant and dramatic and he hates what I want to do with my life. But, I respect him. I've never needed a father figure. I raised myself and my sister. I turned out fine and he's always given me everything I need. So we never wanted for food or warm bed or clothes or even fancy toys."

"I was a kid and too wise for my age. I'm a teen now and too wise for my age. And when I'm an adult I'll be older than everyone around me. I'm not filled with angst and insanity. I know you want to help the poor crazy boy. But, I really don't need it anymore. All I need right now is to pass High Skool. And maybe a sandwich. So, unless you can help me with either of those…"

Miss. Pike shook her head. He nodded. "Then we're clear?" She smiled, softly.

"Crystal. But, Dib…"

"What?" He asked, impatient, wanting to leave and eat said sandwich.

"What about Zim?" Dib froze. She had hit a nerve and the backlash would be memorable.

"What _ABOUT_ him?" The teenager asked stiffly, jaw clenched, fists clenched and eyes on fire.

"His name shows up about as much as yours does in here." She gestured toward the file. "He's important. More important than bullying and your father apparently. He takes up pages upon pages…who is he? What is he like? What is your relationship to him?"

Dib stared at her a bit longer before running a hand down his face, mumbling. Finally, he sat up straight, almost jerkily. "Look, lady. Thanks for, you know caring. But, Zim is…Zim is far beyond this." His arms flew out to indicate the room and her and pretty much everything. "Zim is not something you can cure or use to make me better." The longer that Dib talked, the more his entire body seemed to move about jerkily, the more he seemed to twitch and fidget. "Zim is the problem and the solution and so not what you want to get into right now. So thanks…but, no thanks."

With that he grabbed his back pack and stalked out of the room, letting the door swish softly shut behind him.

Miss. Pike let a huge breath out of her mouth, blinking a bit before grabbing the file and putting it away for now. Whoever this Zim was, he was the key to Dib's problems. The boy was very mature, mentally far beyond any kid his own age if his test results were any indication. Still, he did have problems. Ones that could develop more in life, ones that must be a burden even if he wouldn't admit it.

She put her head in her hand, huffing. Next time, and there would be a next time, they would talk about Zim. Maybe if she garnered more information she could gain his trust and help him better. Pike nodded determinedly and set to work, calling down the next student.

The next time she saw Dib was Homecoming week. The entire skool was papered with giant banners in the skool colors, which covered the grease and water stains that seemed to spread as the years went by. People were chipper, but not so much about the spirit in skool as they were about the free food and getting out of class to go to lame assemblies that never seemed to hole anyone's attention.

Pike figured with everything going on, she could call Dib down and he wouldn't miss much. Off the pass went and ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" She called, sitting up straight, hands on the desk in front of her.

The door squeaked open and Dib stepped inside, eyeing the space before settling on her. Behind the wire rimmed glasses, brown eyes were dark and though he didn't show it much on the surface she could tell her was annoyed.

"Sit, please, Dib." He took his raggedy back pack off and sat it on the floor before flopping down in the chair. Silence. He raised an eyebrow.

"Any reason I'm here? It can't be because of anything I've done recently because nothing major has happened and you've already proven you don't see students because of their petty misdemeanors. So you must want to talk about my record more." It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

"You're very observant." Pike pulled out the book like record and let it sit on the table between them like last time. "I do want to talk. Not about the record…per say. I want to talk about you, not the words on these papers. Like you said last time, you're very wise for your age and the people who wrote these records are not me. And most definitely not you. I'd like to know you, Dib."

She could see him calculating, assessing her words for truth. And that made her even more curious. What had made him have to develop these skills? Skills like observations and being suspicious of a room before you even walk into it, analyzing people and their words for any hidden meanings…

"Fine, . Ask your questions. And I'll do my best to answer them." A wave of surprise and relief washed over her. That was…easy.

"Thank you, Dib. I'd like to begin with something that was mentioned a lot in here. The Paranormal." She said, quoting the records. "You like the supernatural, then? Like Ghosts and UFOs and things?" The boy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back, as if preparing for a long stay.

"You could say that. I've liked it since I was a kid. If those records are accurate, you know my father is a pretty big scientist. From 'birth' I've been pressured to fit into his shoes and like science because I was to take over his Empire." Dib shrugged. "I mean, I get the stuff, it's easy. Too easy. But, the supernatural is hidden and just waiting to be discovered. So, I went for that instead."

There was a pattern… "You say these things in past tense. Do you not like it anymore?"

Dib sighed. "Of course I do. It's just kind of taken a back seat to other things." 'Other things' was said with much annoyance.

"What are these 'other things' Dib?" He grit his teeth and looked away from her.

"Nothing." Well, that was a 'something' if she had ever heard one before. Pike grabbed her pen and flicked it back and forth between her fingers for a few seconds while the seconds ticked by.

"Is this 'nothing'…Zim?" She said the name cautiously; aware of how he'd reacted last time this subject was brought up. And like last time his shoulders went stiff, body tense and Pike could see the arrogance and calm practically melt away. Immediately, Dib was twitchy, jaw clenched.

"No! Zim is, Zim is like I said none of your business and not even, like worth talking about. Because he's stupid and just ugh—"Dib forced himself to stop talking and take a huge, deep breath. "No. Zim is not 'other things'. Zim is just a moron who is one of my more exhaustive tormentors."

Ms. Pike's pen had stopped wiggling for those few seconds that Dib had lost his cool. She put the pen down. "Dib, does talking about him upset you?"

"No." Dib ran a hand through his hair which was already kind of mused. "No, it does not. I just…hate him."

"Why? If you don't mind me asking, that is." He scowled at her before breaking the gaze to stare around her room again.

"Well, Why not? I hate him for a billion reasons. Many of which make sense. Some that only I understand and some that will make you want to throw me into the Crazy House for Boys which is where they all want to put me when I tell them. However, I've grown almost fond of that stupid place. They used to have a room for me you know? Permanent. Of course, I haven't gone in forever so it might be gone."

Ms. Pike blinked, tilting her head to the side. Was this about Zim being an—

"But, if you want to know why I hate him…well," He raised his hands and began to count off on his fingers. "He's a moron who can't do anything right. He makes fun of my head. He is arrogant to the extreme and has no reason to be. His voice is ear shatteringly loud, so loud my doctor said I had to be more careful because I'm losing hearing in my left ear. Which, coincidence? is the ear he yells in .morning. He makes no sense nearly all the time, though he does have his moments. He plays these stupid pranks on me that more often than not cause bodily harm."

The more that Dib talked about Zim, she could see his calm start to deteriorate. "Everything he does turns into some sort of escapade that I have to interfere with lest anyone die. He wears a dress. Every single day. Like it never changes. Ever. Like I wouldn't care if ANYONE wore a dress, but it's the same! That's gross. Unless he has like a ton of them, which I wouldn't be surprised if he did. He's a pretentious douchebag, who thinks everyone is under him. And last but most certainly not least, is the small fact that he's an alien who wants to destroy the fucking planet!"

All of Dib's fingers were up, hands in the air and his voice had slowly increased in volume throughout his rant, until he was yelling and Pike was biting her lip, wondering if anyone could hear them. A few moments of silence went by and he dropped his hands. Panting lightly and frowning.  
"You asked." Dib mumbled. She smiled softly.

"You're right. I did. And I've read all the files. But, I'll tell you what; I'm an open minded person and I never discount evidence. Will you answer one more thing for me, Dib? Then I'll let you get back to class." The boy nodded stiffly, going back to his upright, uptight position. "What do you like about Zim?"

The teen's eyes narrowed thought he was taken aback, eyebrows furrowing together and an expression of disgust forming. "No way. I'm not answerin' that."

"It's an exercise, Dib. It will help me get a better idea of what I'm dealing with here. Just a few things. There has to be something you admire about him. Something small?"  
Dib was torn. He really wanted to leave. But, he also didn't want to say anything good about his worst enemy. Eventually the desire to ditch this place won out. With a long suffering sigh, he crossed his arms and looked anywhere but at the counselor.

"Well…" He ran a hand down his face, thinking. "He's…determined."

"Good. Can yo—"

"I'm not done, yet." Dib scolded, and Pike blinked nodding as a sign to continue. "He's determined. Which I can both admire and relate to. He gets things done. Although, sometimes I think it's only through pure stupidity that he manages to get through the day. But, maybe that's his secret, Yanno? And he's smart in some things. Like science. Best at it in the class. Even better than me which by the way you didn't hear me say. But, gosh he sucks at math." The teen shook his head, hair flopping around as he remembered the time when Zim had gotten so frustrated at the subject he'd thrown his book across the room and then began to rip up Dib's.

"He's passionate about…fuc-sorry, everything. Passionate in his hatred and his people and his stupid evil plans. Zim looks at everything like it's a new thing to conquer. And he does it head on too. No messing around or procrastinating. Normal people say they want something but, don't go for it, as if expecting it's just gonna fall in their lap. Another thing we have in common I guess. Oh. And his eyes. I mean, not the really horrible fake ones but his real ones."

He was looking down at his hands now, frown increasing as he realized what he'd just divulged. Miss. Pike blinked and wrote down a few things. "Okay. Now I'm done." She nodded.

"Well, Dib…thank yo—"

"Can I go now?" The young paranormal investigator interrupted, impatiently.

"Dib. Just…it sounds like you admire more things about Zim than you hate about hi—"

"I want to leave."

"Dib, please just think about maybe doing something differe—"

"Like what?" He barked, already grabbing the straps of his backpack and fumbling with the zipper.

"Like instead of being mean to Zim…trying to be friends with hi—"

"No."

"What?"

"I said no." the detective pulled his backpack on and shoved away from the chair. "We're enemies now and will always be that way." Without waiting for her to try and convince him again, he fled from the room, storming down the hallway. Pike sighed and ran a hand down her face.

Things were complicated. More complicated than she'd ever predicted. There was much inside of Dib, he was a puzzle. One that fought back and seemed to be blinded by what he'd been told his whole life. She could see it perfectly though.

Was this too hard, she thought for a second. Could she really help him? The counselor began putting her stuff away for the day. Only if he wanted to be helped. And she didn't think Dib knew how to be helped. He only knew clawing his way to where he wanted to be, independent and cut off from everyone.  
That loneliness hadn't seemed to have hit him yet. Or maybe it had and he was just very good at hiding it. Humans needed companionship. It was a law. And whether it came from an animal or another person was another matter entirely.

But, Dib had neither. He no one…but, Zim. And unless he breached that barrier that seemed to hang there, she was afraid one day he'd realize how alone he was and just…give up. Dib needed Zim and Zim was the one person in his life that seemed to really matter.

If they could become friends…maybe it would just save him. Pike closed her filing cabinet and leaned against it with a sigh. Maybe.


	6. They're Normal

_8:10 am, Home Room._

_I look across the room. Dib is in the sixth seat to the left in the 8th row. He's wearing his new shirt again. It looks delicious on him, so I can't complain. Even if there are blood stains on the sleeves. As always his attention isn't on me, or what our horrible teacher is saying, but rather on Him. Zim. The crazy, green kid who wears more pink than normal girls do. So, the beautiful golden eyes are focused exactly three inches away from me, on the right side of the class, 6 seats away from me. I am literally caught in the middle._

_8:12 am, still Home Room._

_Dib just scratched his nose! OMG._

_10:15 am, Computer class._

_How dull. But, I also have it with Dib, and that makes all the dreary, glowing screens worth it. Or at least it would've if Zim weren't in here too._

_They are talking now. Well, not so much talking as yelling, arguing. They sit only a few feet away from each other…and it's computer class! It's all about processors and megabytes! There's hardly anything to talk about, let alone get into a turbulent debate. But, there they are._

_The teacher makes the same mistake all of them do: Making the two of them partners. Zim and Dib do work together well, even if they are angry as hell while doing it._

_Dib is making big gestures, waving an ancient looking floppy disk in the air. He wants to use it. He says the older the technology, the less likely it has bugs. Then Zim is hitting Dib with something shiny, probably his version of the floppy disk. He's screaming about how his technology is working just fine._

_It goes on like that for the rest of the period. I don't know which they picked because they start doing the thing where they whisper with their heads close together, like they have a big secret._

_Dib looks beautiful._  
-

"Oh, come on! It's the obvious choice! Plenty of space, less bugs and look, Space-Boy, it's your favorite color!" Dib points to the floppy disk's bright, salmon pink. The Invader's face wrinkles in disgust.

"LIES! Zim despises that color."

"Then why do you wear it so much?"

"Blegh! This is the standard Invader Uniform and its magenta! Are you blind?! Or is your antenna not in the right position to receive signals?"

"My antenna?"

"Yes, your hair, you FOOL!"

"My hair doesn't receive any sort of-Okay, okay!" Dib held up a hand to stop the fight for a second. "Can we just decide what to use and get on with it? I want to get this over with." Zim sniffed disdainfully but nodded, pulling a very shiny and lethal looking silver disk with the predictable Irken symbol on the front.

"What, for the love of God, is that?" Dib asked, almost afraid to glance at it. Part of him wanted to snatch the thing away, decode its secrets and drool over the amazing technology of alien descent. The other part wanted to get his way. The bad thing was that the latter part was much more stubborn.

Zim smirked knowingly, which made Dib want to punch him all the more. "This, young Dib-Smeet, is the IX67. The highest in Irk-Vort technology. The best in all the Universe. It can hold up to 2000 LGH, or in your pitiful human technology, approximately 5 Million YottaBytes."

Dib barely contained his mouth as it almost flopped open in pure awe. The disk seemed to shine in the light, displaying its glory. It's overly exhaustive glory. He itched to touch it. But, of course Dib would never reveal his amazement. Not to this alien scum. He would just steal the thing later. He was getting better at pick pocketing.

"Looks, stupid." He said casually, throwing in just the right amount of disdain in order to the get the Irken's back up. His hand grabbed the floppy disk and smirked widely.

"Come on, Zim. We don't need that much space for such a tiny project. Besides, better earthian technology. It's simple." He waves the floppy disk before the irken's eyes.

"Therefore it has less room for bugs and viruses... Unlike that fancy thing you have there. Probably doesn't even work correc—AHHHGH!" Dib screeched as the big, shiny disk was brought over his head, numerous times. He was too shell-shocked to do anything at first, other than stare at Zim's angry, flushed face.

"My technology works just fine! SEE! IT'S WORKING NOW! IT'S NEW JOB IS TO DESTROY YOOOOOU!" Down the disk went; down, down. Again and again. Zim mentally pictured the Dib's brains all over the floor and smirked evilly.

Dib growled and snatched the silver thing away before his head cracked open or he went postal. It didn't really hurt so much as it annoyed the crap out of him. "Okay, STOP. I get the point." He sighed and pressed the thing into the computer. "But, if it fries the system I'm blaming you." He said, clicking the mouse to begin their work.

Zim looked properly smug.  
-

_12:15 PM_

_It's lunch time. People are loud and obnoxious. My lunch looks toxic, as always. No one sits near me._

_Dib's tray is full but pushed to the far end of his table. His sister is on the other side of the room, is in the corner with her gamer/stoner friends. He looks lonely. I could go try to sit by him, maybe make him smile and laugh. I could. But, I don't._

_Zim comes through the cafeteria doors like a tornado. He shoves kids out of his way, food flying and people inching away from his path of destruction. Heavy boots snap against the tile floor as he storms over to the line and grabs his own tray of slop before swirling over to Dib and slamming himself down across from him._

_They glare at each other as if this isn't normal._

_Zim sneers as he shoves the blue tray of indigestible food away. Through my lashes I can see silence. Neither move, but for the glaring. Then the argument starts. Just something small. Something to hold them over during lunch. Probably about classes or Zim's new 'evil' plan. The way Dib is slamming his fist on the table and gesturing towards the trays…maybe it's about the food. A spork is grabbed between his fingers and oh no._

_Dib's eating it, the lunch, as if to spite the green weirdo. It's probably all pride. I know that Dib will be sick later. Zim knows it too as he smiles triumphantly. _  
-

"-superior to human stomachs."

"Oh, oh really?"

"UH-huh!"

"Oh really?!"

"Yep!"

"So, what about the fact that you can't even eat meat or pudding or beans, huh? How is that superior?" Dib was going to win this argument. It was a stupid one anyway. Not that it didn't get on his nerves, or feel just as important as every other fight that had come before.

Zim sniffed, disdainfully. "Well, who wants to eat any of those things anyway? They're stupid. Besides at least I've eaten that FILTH," a gloved claw pointed at one of their trays. "before and lived to tell the tale. I don't think you've ever done that before, stink-breath. Have you, have you?"

"No! But, that doesn't make you in any way, shape, or form superior! In fact, you're weaker." His logic wasn't exactly sound, but Dib was sticking to it.

"Well, then why don't you eat the poison- I mean, food and prove me wrong, eh?" Zim asked, buffing his nails. Gloved nails. Moron. Dib growled and looked at the tray. The 'food' that sat in one of the little cubbies, bubbled and frothed a sickly greenish color. It could've been soup. Or jello. Or a mix. Who even knew?

"Fine! I will. Because humans are better than Irkens, any day."

His fingers curled around his spork and quickly scooped up a spoonful. He only hesitated a second…before putting it in his mouth and feeling his stomach lurch almost instantly. Swallowing was another challenge entirely that required his full concentration and all the will power he had.

Still, when it was done, Dib felt accomplished. At least until he glanced up and saw the alien's stupid smug smile. The moron knew it would make him sick! Groaning, he clutched his stomach and hit his head on the table. "You jerk."

Zim's answer was an evil chuckle.

-  
_1:10 PM._

_Math class. It's decently easy for me. Dib is the best in class. But, Zim sucks. I write this with too much happiness. Maybe because I'm a teeny, tiny bit jealous. I know that's stupid. To be jealous of someone so ugly and a boy no less. And not only that but, Dib HATES him. Still…there's something about Zim that makes me feel he would fight me to the death for Dib._

_As always the teacher has shoved the two of them together. I guess it's almost like a tutoring thing. Everyone can hear them bicker bitterly. Zim doesn't understand and that infuriates him. No matter how patient Dib is, no matter how many times he tries to explain it goes in one ear and out the oth—oh. Well, if he had ears it would go in one and out the other. That's kind of weird right? No ears. Well, Zim is weird in general so I guess it doesn't matter._

_Zim's voice is really high pitched and he yells a lot. My head hurts._

_Finally, he throws his math book across the room where it makes a horrible racket, before he grabs up Dib's book too and begins to tear it to pieces. Dib watches for a second, just like the rest of the class. Then he growls and grabs Zim's wrists, twisting till the text book falls from his claws._

_No one knows what to do. And I'm frozen. I'm always frozen._

"And what does this stupid little squiggle mean?" Zim questioned, rubbing his chin. Dib on the other hand sighed and contemplated using the standard issue Geometry textbook to bash the irken's head in.

"For the 18th time, that means it's congruent to the other one."

"Well, it makes no sense! Why does a squiggle mean that? Why don't they just say it's conflagrant?" Zim flailed his arms, non-existent brow furrowed angrily. Dib pinched the bridge of his nose.

"They DO. That's what the squiggle means. And it's congruent, Zim. Not conflagrant." And Dib wasn't even sure if he knew what conflagrant meant. Not that it really bothered him at the moment. Nothing bothered him as much as Zim. Zim was the bane of his existence and took up every single second of annoyance that Dib had.

Zim huffed, crossing his arms and staring down at the textbook as if it was some sort of slimy creature that had begged for mercy, and the Irken was deciding whether or not to give it, even though he knew all along that he wouldn't. Or something stupid like that.

"None of this makes any sense." The alien declares, arms thrown wide open and nearly hitting Dib upside the head. This is enough to rile him up. As if he wasn't already riled. He's always riled when it comes to Zim.

"Well, maybe it would make sense if you paid attention in class instead of doing…whatever it is you do instead of paying attention."

"Well, how is Zim expected to understand to this filth?! It's pathetic and so primitive I can't fathom it—"

"That's not why you can't understand it, stupid. It's because you're…stupid!" Dib barks, feeling kind of stupid himself, but pleased with having called his mortal enemy a name.

Maybe things would be different if Zim didn't get as easily upset as Dib did. If he'd been calmer and uncaring. But, he was hot headed and something as simple as an insult was enough to catapult him into a rage. Add the frustration of this…math-dookie and Zim was just ready to blow like a cheap fire-cracker.

"Zim is not stupid! I'm advanced." It was something he'd heard his Tallest say once. It seemed like an adequate time to use it.

Between the lunch thing and just…sitting next to Zim, Dib had about exhausted his patience quota for the day. Not that it was very big to begin with. "Oh, just stuff it! You suck at math, Zim."

"Do not, Smelly-Head!"

"Yeah you do, Leprechaun."

Zim had no idea what a Leprechaun was. But, he hated it. And Dib even more for calling him it. The Irken's fuse, which on a good day was short, lit and exploded with him throwing his textbook across the room in a blind rage.

It made a satisfying bang against some kid's head. He had no time to laugh because next up was Dib's book, pages shredding under his fingers. Stupid numbers and symbols that made no sense. Horrible letters so out of place. Algorithms and shapes and—

His wrists were suddenly constrained very tightly, the book dropping from his grip. Zim growled against the new hold and he knew who it was because who else would it be but, the stupid human? No one else had the gall, no one else had ever in the history of ever touched him just to stop him from destroying things. No one. Not even the Tallest or his fellow soldiers. No. They used politics and banishments. But, Dib wasn't Irken. He was human, and violently so.

It wasn't as if this was the first time things had gotten physical between them in nearly seven years. They fought all the time. Wrestled and grappled. Sometimes when insults weren't enough they would resort to hair pulling and biting and punching.

At this current moment, Zim growled low in his throat and tried to yank his arms away. Dib held firm and his face looked like he tasted sour milk. Zim could look up into those brown eyes and see hatred, raw determination and annoyance.

But, he didn't. Zim instead barked an Irken curse word and kept yanking on his arms though he knew it to be futile. It never occurred to him to maybe step on the human's foot or kick him in the stomach or uh, other area. Nope.

"Zim." Dib said after nearly five minutes of this. Their classmates were used to their antics and had turned away about 3 minutes ago. "Zim. Stop it. You're being—"

"Grr. Let go of me!"

"No. Cause then you'll start clawing at me. I know you, Zim."

"Let," Tug, pull. "go of," lots of groaning and futile yanking that hardly swayed Dib. "me!"

"This could go on for hours Zim. You do remember the mutant gophers right?" An image sparked in Zim's tiny brain. It had been one of those times where they'd been forced to work together (and that happened more often than either of them cared to admit).

An experiment gone wrong. Mutant Gophers that had been designed to be his faithful minions. To take over the world as his faithful minions. At the beginning there'd only been three. And then they had gotten smarter and started spreading the chemical to other gophers until there'd been hundreds.

Some had burrowed into Dib's basement and chewed on his dad's stuff. He'd gone to Zim curious and suspicious and Zim had gone to Dib because they'd taken over his base and he had no real choice. Or at least that's what he stood by.

They'd argued about how to best handle the situation and it had escalated as it always did. They'd stood for another hour with Dib's arms wrapped around the alien to prevent more clawing. Dib's temper had slowly faded.

Zim's had not.

Oh. The human had a point. Sort of. It had taken them much longer to destroy the gophers than it would have if they hadn't fought. Plus, being so close to Dib's smell had given him a head ache. Swallowing back pride and saliva, Zim finally went limp and glared. "Zim will not claw your ugly eyes out."

Dib raised an eyebrow and slowly released the irken. Who immediately punched the boy on his shoulder as hard as possible before slumping down in his seat with a huff. Dib yelled and his own fists clenched as he fought the urge not to hit back. The urge that told him that just because they were older now and he should restrain himself…that Zim deserved to be hit flat in his face.

The bell rung, sending the whole class in a flood out the door. They were the last ones out after the teacher yelled at them and forced Dib to pay for his ruined textbook despite it being all of Zim's fault. They marched out together, glaring all the while.

-  
_3:35 PM._

_Skool is over. Finally. And I am waiting by my locker as the after-flood ensues. Not for any one in particular but, just watching. I like to watch people. They're cruel and kind of crazy but, it's something you kind of grow fond of doing, especially when you're a reject and have nothing else to do._

_There's Clash and the Letter M who are pretty much the class clowns. They're messing around, throwing paper balls and making a whole little group laugh at their antics. Torque Smacky is lifting his dumbbell casually and talking to Sarah who is giggling nearly hysterically. They're like prom king and queen. The perfect couple. The jocks all gather around and throw balls of every variety, warming up for practice today. And the semi-popular ones like Zita and Melvin. And then everyone in between._

_There's my old friends who I still sit with sometimes; Keef and Eeeeep, the others. But, even they are standing about as far away as they can get from Zim and Dib whose lockers are only six away from each other._

_Dib's very angry. I know because he's flushed and his ears are red. Plus, his movements are stiff as he yanks out the books he'll need for the night. Zim does the same and they slam their lockers shut at the same time, turn towards the giant crowd and begin walking with separate bags thrown over their shoulders._

_But, their expressions are the same; eyes straight ahead, looking through the people, mouth set. Zim is so much smaller than Dib, reaching his chest and yet they walk like they're the same person; eating up the distance between themselves and some invisible goal, mechanical like a soldier._

_People get out of their way. It's kind of instinctive. No one has to even think about avoiding them anymore, step away, out of the line of fire. It's natural. Just like how no one talks to them anymore or even blinks at their fights._

_They walk out of the Skool together. Like one big freak. Even freakier than me. But, about as normal as they can get._


	7. Another Counselor, Part 2

_The teen cringed at the word 'relationship' though he knew logically 'relationship' didn't have to mean romantically or even friendly. Everyone had a relationship with everyone they came into contact with every single day, whether it be casual acquaintances or your waitress._

_But, still, the idea of a relationship with Zim was one that made him faintly nauseous._

_Part 2/2_

Dib scowled down at the bright yellow pass that directed him towards his destination. She'd pulled him out of calculus. What now? Hadn't he made himself clear in the last 'session'? Approaching the Guidance Counselor's door, Dib put on his best apathetic teen expression before knocking. Two seconds went by in which he seriously considered running, before a muffled 'Come in' reached his ears.

The room seemed darker this time, dirtier. It wasn't surprising. Eventually that happened to everything in this town. It all turned dank and corrupt. Flopping in the not-so-comfy chair, he looked face to face with whom had her hands clamped in front of her.

Dib did a quick once over and noticed the shadows under her eyes, the frizzy state of her hair, the small dark stain on her shirt collar. He predicted it would be a week until the pressure had her snapping and walking out these skool doors never to return. That's what happened with new teachers, the ones who wanted to make a difference, who came from out of town. They all quit. Unless you were . Though some people wished she would quit. Dib figured she had some sort of blood pact with the principle or the devil. Or the school had just been built around her and she refused to leave.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before she sighed, "How are you, Dib?"

"Fine." He replied. It was true. He was always fine. "You look haggard."

"Thanks." Pike replied, dryly and then fell silent for a few more seconds. The clock hands ticked loudly. "Will you do me favor?" Dib raised an eyebrow in response.

"Depends what it is, I guess."

"Tell me about the beginning."

"Beginning?"

"When you first met Zip."

"Zim." Dib corrected automatically before wincing like this had happened too many times before. Which is had. Was it really that hard to get his name right?

"Zim. When did you meet?" Dib chewed on the question for a few seconds. What advantages could this give his opponent? None that he could imagine. Not that Miss. Pike was his opponent. He needed to stop thinking of everything as a challenge.

"It's been…" He did some quick math, thinking back to when he'd been bored, giving up hope on that transmission he'd listened on to nearly six months before was real, it had to be a fake and the door had squeaked open to reveal Him. A kid with green skin, fake violet eyes like a dolls. Too perfect. No nose. No ears. Hope had soared. This was it. Dib's mind was already moving a million miles a minute and hadn't even introduced him yet. Maybe they could talk, share information. Dib thought they could be friends. How cool would that be? An alien friend.

Then Zim opened his mouth…it wasn't even what the boy said but how he said it. His body language. Dib knew instinctively that this was not friend, this was foe. A million more thoughts broke the tension and all he could do anymore was stare and point, hoping someone else would notice it too.  
How long had it been?

No. It couldn't already be…

"Seven years. Eight in April. It was fifth grade. I actually skipped fourth, not that that matters…" Pike raised an eyebrow. "We'd already been in session a month when he walked into ' class. And I knew. I just knew." Instinctively, Dib raised his chin. This was the truth. No one could convince him otherwise.

"You just knew he was an alien."

"Yes."

"Well, how have things progressed since then?"

"What do you mean?" Dib squinted at her. Pike sat up straight.

"Do you still fight the way you used to?" She said, referring to the files and the numerous detentions and suspensions they'd gotten due to their tendency to break things and traumatize substitutes. "How has being in Highschool changed that relationship?" The teen cringed at the word 'relationship' though he knew logically 'relationship' didn't have to mean romantically or even friendly. Everyone had a relationship with everyone they came into contact with every single day, whether it be casual acquaintances or your waitress.

But, still, the idea of a relationship with Zim was one that made him faintly nauseous.

"Um. We only physically fight on the weekends. That's when I stop all his evil plans and…usually it results in some epic battle for earth." Wow that sounded lame but, Dib couldn't help but think back to last weekend where deadly lasers had burned his jacket and part of his left eyebrow. Zim's laughter echoed in his skull, rattling around, skipping like a scratched CD.

"—the week?" Pike's voice interrupted his musings.

"Huh?"

"And during the week? What do you two do then?" Dib stuffed his hands into his pockets, playing with the trash he'd forgotten to throw away; hate notes and candy wrappers and—the laser gun he'd stolen from the Irken. He smirked, thinking about how they always sat on opposite sides of the classroom (it was crazy how it always happened in almost every class they shared ((four too many)) exchanging suspicious glares, said hate notes, who could be the most annoying and get the other to interrupt class and get in trouble contests…

Wow, when he thought about it, it sounded childish and stupid, though when he was aiming spit balls at Zim's head it felt like the fate of the world depended on making him extra mad.

"Um…fate of the world stuff."

Not for the first time, and there had been a few occasions these last couple years where seeds of doubt had been planted in his brain, growing ever so slowly until he could feel thorns scratching at his skull, pushing against his eyes. Dib was beginning to realize just how…pathetic and futile his war with Zim had become.  
But, then the idea of the Irkens swarming overhead, giant laser beams destroying everything and everyone he'd ever known and knowing that the thing that was able to decide if that would happen was living right down the street…well, that nightmare had him reforming his vow to stop Zim. That and life was kind of freaking boring as hell when he wasn't fighting the alien.

He told about the note throwing, the wrestling in gym class, sabotaging the other's sleeping habits, and how they tried to get the other one detention and more often than not ended up sharing it all the while feeling his ego take a serious blow.

"But, it's not like we can have epic battles at school. People would get hurt…and we both need to Yanno…graduate." Dib fidgeted. smiled, tiredly.

"It sounds like you have a bit of a routine."

Dib sighed, thinking about that and figuring that it was true in a way. He tounge danced along his teeth. "Okay, yes. Fine. It's a routine. What's your point?" And there was one. He just couldn't exactly figure out what it was. But, the ramifications were there, lurking in the back of his mind. Pike shook her head.

"Nothing." The contents of her desk rattled as she dug through a couple drawers and pulled out a large blank piece of paper and a black pen, drawing two circles that connected in the middle, with 'Zim' and 'Dib' drawn in her girly handwriting above their own circle. A Venn-diagram, he recognized from his English class. What was she playing at now? The counselor pushed the page towards him along with the marker.

"I want you to compare and contrast Zim and yourself. Your character traits, personalities, ideas and anything else you can think of. Be as honest as possible." Dib looked at the paper contemptuously, then back up at Pike. This was stupid. Really stupid. He could be in class right now. Reluctantly, he grabbed the pen and began writing. Slowly and then quicker. At first, the middle remained blank while the other circles grew darker and crowded.

Then he remembered tiny things; like how they both hated gym, their mutual love for space and science, they were both kind of paranoid (Zim more than himself) and he knew they were both determined, though their goals were very different. The seconds ticked by uncomfortably, and eventually he let the pen fall to the desk because there was too much here. Too much in the center, too much that connected them and not nearly enough to set them apart.

Both circles had dark spider legs of words, springing from them but, it wasn't enough for Dib. He was thrown from his panicked musings as the final shrill screaming bell of the day rang. "You can leave." Pike responded, rubbing her temples."Have a good day, Dib." The boy was already half way out the door, fist clutching his backpack and Venn diagram.

"You too!" He called, escaping. He was a late in his routine which actually made him a bit anxious. Usually, they walked out from class together, arguing and being generally obnoxious, went to their respective lockers, and depending on the day either walked until they went their separate ways or fought out on the blacktop. Dib swerved through the swarm of frenzied children and managed to catch a glimpse of green skin rushing out the exit. He muttered a low curse and hurriedly opened his locker, shoving all his textbooks into his backpack and slamming it shut before rushing after the alien.

Dib went to shove open the exit doors, only to realize that his left hand still clutched the wrinkled Venn-diagram. His stomach dropped and the urge to drop it to the titled floor was strong. He wanted to throw it away and let it be swept up by the janitor with the other fliers and forgotten class work. But, what if someone found it? Found out just how similar they were. Found the evidence of them, of Zim and he being even a little bit the same?

No. He shoved it into his jacket pocket, determined to forget about it, before throwing the doors open to the blinding afternoon sunlight and nearly tripping down the stairs in his rush to catch the alien.


	8. One

_If one is an incident…_  
-

The entire building was collapsing. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal normally, because these things were old. The ones that had been evacuated and still stunk faintly with ashes and whatever chemicals were in that explosion. Sometimes they still glowed green.

This was the abandoned part of town that had been affected by the time stasis explosion that Zim had caused a few years prior. So, yes, if something began to crumble it usually wasn't surprising or a big deal, considering no one even lived in this area of town anymore.

Only right now it was because they were on top of it. What had they been thinking? Well, most likely they hadn't. It just graduated from Dib stopping some stupid evil plan involving angry ,giant, rabid rats and into a full out brawl that took them up the stairs, dust falling, yelling echoing up and down empty corridors.

The roof door exploded open and he rolled outside, jumping back up into the fighting position just as Zim clambered after him, on his spider legs, poking holes into the weak foundation, which should've been a pretty good clue that this was a bad idea. They were at least ten stories up. It was an old factory. Who knew what for. It was rusty and made for tons of creepy ambiance which Zim appreciated since he was all about the theatrics.

"Afraid, worm baby?" The Irken called, cackling manically before breaking into a coughing fit because of all the dust. Dib was unimpressed, searching the perimeter for a possible escape and coming up with nothing short of either jumping off the building (not happening) or distracting Zim into getting out of the way of the door back down the stairs.

"Afraid of what, lizard? Contracting your stupid? Because yes, I am." It was dark outside now. The surrounding buildings held no light, there were no street lamps left. The moon and the stars were blocked out by the smog, so he could see the Irken's glowing eyes. The wind blew, whistling through empty windows, causing harsh whistles to break out all around them.

Dib pulled back his fist, which clutched an old pipe taken from far below near the beginning of this adventure, prepared to break an alien jaw should he make any sudden movements, when there was a loud and wet crunch and the floor fell out from underneath him. His stomach was in his throat and confusion only lasted for a millisecond before the thought '_I'm going to die'_ overwhelmed him.

_Some time earlier…_

What was Zim doing in this part of town? Dib thought to himself, skidding down a little hill of broken building. The idiot was around here somewhere, doing who knew what. He'd been acting more stupid than usual today at skool, distracted and laughing to himself occasionally. He was planning something. Dib had followed him home, only the alien didn't go home. He went straight here, ducking inside several buildings, probably aware of the human trailing him.

This place gave him the creeps. It was abandoned and scattered with the occasional rat or hobo, buildings crumbling, filled with old momentos. But, that wasn't what bothered Dib. It was the fact that irken technology did this and that this was a pretty fair idea of what the earth could look like if the armada conquered them. What would happen if he didn't fight Zim's stupid attempts at world domination.

A loud crashing sound had the human instinctively crouching into a fighting position, searching for what caused the sound. In one hand he held his trusty camera (the 146th one to hold the title) and in the other he had the map of this dump but, it wasn't much help. The noise happened again and it sounded closer. He ran towards it, toward a large building that still seemed mostly intact.

It had a door surprisingly enough and Dib pushed it open slightly to peek inside. Zim was there, fighting…giant rats? Dib pushed the door open and ran inside, hugging the wall and watching the action. He lifted his camera and took three rapid shots. The rats were huge. Half Zim's size with giant teeth and they were fast too. There were at least a hundred of them, he estimated. The alien was pretty good at taking care of them though, stabbing them with his pak legs, and shaking them off so it didn't turn into a rat-cabob. Dib grimaced at that idea.

He began to slide back out the door, except one of them noticed the human and began to go after him, jumping to attack. Dib yelled and rolled out of the way, standing quickly, and hopping up on top of a rusty platform, looking for a weapon. He dropped the camera to be picked up again later.

Zim spun to see the human's evasion, growling. "Dib!"

"Zim." The boy replied simply, kicking a pipe once, twice until it broke and he could wield it to hit at the beady eyed creature that lunged for him.  
"What are you doing here?!" The Irken yelled, batting one of the offenders away and stabbing it before throwing it in Dib's direction.

"Seeing what stupid thing you were up to. This….what even is this?" The metal of Dib's makeshift weapon made contact with the meaty body of a rat, cracking its ribs and snapping its spine under the force.

"An evil plan that uh…has some bugs." Zim replied, with a superior sniff, distracted long enough to have at least three attack him. He screeched and tried desperately to bat them away. Dib scowled and managed to hit one of them off of the alien, before he had to turn back around and fend off the ones coming for him.

"Understatement. What were you even trying to do?!"  
"That's none of your—urgh! business, Dib-stink."

"You made it my business, idiot." Dib called back, kicking back one of them so he could take on another. The bodies fell swiftly with the two of them working together.  
Dib panted after all the rats were gone. The two enemies stood at the ready for a few seconds, before realizing it was over. They fell out of their fighting positions.

Dib went to grab his stuff and get the hell out of here, take a shower, eat and try not to have nightmares about being eaten by giant rats. He searched for his camera only to find it missing. "What?" Now, he frantically looked about, realizing that one of the rats must've grabbed it and either hidden it or ate it. With a long suffering sigh, he looked around at the piles of rat corpses and realized it was hopeless. Camera number 146 was gone.

Zim shuddered. Note to self: Rats did not make good minions. Especially gigantic, mutated to be livid ones. He turned to the human, realizing now they were alone and this would be a good time to attack the unsuspecting pig wouldn't it? Zim grinned and began to do just that, realizing Dib was preoccupied with something stupid. That wouldn't do, would it?

The boy heard the sharp sound of metal against metal as it got closer. The spider legs against the rusted floor and turned just in time to see one of the legs slam down right near his foot. He yelped and lifted the pipe as a threat, quickly retreating. A familiar rush of adrenaline spiked again in his blood, as he back peddled, realizing Zim blocked the nearest exit. There was a door to stairs in the corner of the room.

The fight began.  
-

Zim was staring at the place where the human had been two seconds ago, blinking stupidly. Then he glanced down at the hole, where a familiar yell reached his antenna. '_This is ten floors. We fought our way up that stair case. That monkey is not going to survive a drop that big. Dib is going to die.'_

A few years ago, that would probably have been funny. It would've relieved him because that pest was gone and yes, a part of him got a kick out of imagining the boy's sheer terror as he fell, but then the image of him broken at the bottom, soundless among the rats and no longer Dib…

Zim dove after him, despite the fact that holy jumping jelly bean this was reaaaaally high up, but he could see the boy's stupid hair and his spider legs closed around his body, while two more hooked into a wall, trying to slow them down. Together they screamed. They were only two stories up when the metal joints failed and snapped completely, sending them crashing to the metal floor in a heap of bodies, alien, human and rat.

A few pieces of cement fell, putting a final punctuation on the whole occasion. Zim retracted his spider legs and Dib groaned, checking himself for injuries, moving slowly to check for any pain. Everything felt okay. Nothing felt broken. The alien whimpered a bit and Dib's neck suddenly hurt from how fast his head turned.

Zim had saved him. Had jumped after him. That was…weird. Too weird. Not weird in the 'oh that's so cool I need to check it out and investigate it' but, weird in the hand shaking, hard to breathe, inconceivable way.

"Did you…you just…"  
"Be silent, Dib-Worm. I did nothing. This never—" Zim wheezed, trying to force air back into his spooch. "happened."

The human raised an eyebrow but, nodded. Yes, he could handle that. Kind of. This didn't happen. But, the sudden rush of gratitude was something he was unsure of how to control. Did this make him in the alien's debt?

He brushed white powder of his coat, avoiding looking at Zim, but for a glance in the corner of his eye. The Irken seemed okay, finally getting to his feet and avoiding looking at Dib.

The human slipped out the door and limped home, thinking. His evil nemesis had saved him. Provided this wasn't the first time something like this had happened, there was usually something that the other person needed, in exchange for the other's life, like that whole Halloween fiasco.

Dib's lungs ached for two days afterwards from the force of the fall and he was sore but, alive. All thanks to...Zim.


	9. Two

_...two is a coincidence... _  
-

Zim swore that he would never come back to the wretched city again, and as he tried to stop the nausea from overwhelming him, he cursed the stupid little robot that wasn't responding to any calls but, whose signal pointed somewhere to the heart of this dump. Not an actual dump, although there was one not too far from where he was standing, trying to look like he wasn't going to throw up.

It was the stench. Not the buildings that reached like cement fingers into the red sky, or the scarred, doomed people who practically marched from place to place with heavy ominous briefcases in hand, or even the darkening alleyways that cut through the stretches of buildings, shades from sun or lights, filled with the lingering scent of decay.

Zim grit his teeth, a bad habit, that he'd rid himself of long before coming to earth, and turned a corner as the gps commanded. He nearly collided with a tall bearded man who yelled at him to watch where he was going, only causing Zim to whimper like a smeet and scurry forward at a quicker pace, determined to find the blinking blue dot that was GIR.  
"When I find him, I'll kill him." The irken growled.

The robot had been missing for approximately five days, three of those days Zim had spent getting up the nerve to look for him. The dot on the GPS was getting closer. Zim frowned, scratching an antenna beneath the itchy wig, confused. Far off in the distance, something loud rumbled, angrily. He paid it no mind. This city was filled with horrid noises.  
He shuffled down an alleyway, nearly turning right back around again and running all the way home. The smell. The urge to vomit arose and he squashed it, moving forward as he'd always done. The dot was down here. Gir was irritatingly close.

"Gir?" He asked in a much too quiet voice. He tried again, louder this time. "Gir?" No response came from the dank alleyway. Not a squeak, a meow or one of those obnoxious screeches. The dot was huge on the screen and Zim stopped when it nearly took up the whole thing. Gir was right...there. In the dumpster? Brow furrowed, Zim kicked the metal container, angry at how steady it was. Angry because he was going to have to get inside of it. Another loud rumbling sound.

"You better be seriously damaged for all the trouble you put me through." Zim scolded, climbing up onto a nearby box, and with a shudder of revulsion, peered inside the dumpster. Luckily it was mostly empty, containing a couple cardboard boxes, some cans and of course the little robot. Zim instantly regretted his ill wishes upon the machine and instead came up with a way to fish the android out, using a pak leg.

A quick investigation revealed a huge dent in Gir's head. Most of the wires inside were intact. All of his pieces were there. It must've shocked him into sleep mode. "Stupid robot. Out partying all night. Worrying me." Zim scolded to thin air, tucking Gir under his arm and hopping off the box as another rumble of noise echoed through the city, sending a jolt down his spine. Wait, he knew that noise. As the thought occurred, accompanied by a flash of terror, the first drops began to fall.

Zim stared up at the darkening sky. One drop. Two hit the ground around him. The third landed between his eyes and sent him skittering away from the alleyway. He had to get home. All at once the sky opened up and the ocean poured into the craphole of a city. With a muffled screech, Zim ducked under a bus stop. People were opening up umbrellas, or lifting their hoods against the downpour. For once, Zim envied a human for their ease in handling the acidic liquid that fell from the sky. They could walk around without fear of being dissolved where they stood.

He wondered if he should just stay here until the rain subsided. A loud crack of thunder, followed by lightening countered his argument. Fear ran in his veins. The rain only seemed to increase in density and in volume, pounding the pavement. Zim lifted his own hood. If he ran all the way home, he could make it. Anything to escape the noise that was almost worse than the acid. The colors bled together, humans and buildings. He ran into several, immediately turning around and running back the other direction. The terror made him irrational. Gir bounced under his arm, the rain making him slippery.

Once Zim actually dropped him. A panicked yell escaped the Irken and he dropped to his knees, searching for the robot, splashing in puddles before finding the metal body and yanking to his chest.

His main concern was melting. The paste he put on every morning could hold out a lot longer, thanks to advances made by his genius intellect. But, it wouldn't last forever. The slight sting in his pores made him aware of that fact. The breath hitched in the back of his throat, as he huddled under a restaurant's hanging awning. It provided decent shelter, but larger drops fell as the water soaked through the fabric.

Unbidden, a whimper escaped Zim's throat. Through the deluge, he could see the yellow tell tale sign of a bus stop. By his calculations he should be halfway out of the city by now. But, that bus stop looked awfully familiar. So, did the hobo down on the far corner and the cardboard box next to the stop light.

Had he gone in circles? The idea had him reeling, running out from the cover of the awning with a yell. He had to get home. The spray blinded him, so he kept his head down, depending on his feet and instincts to keep him from running into things.

But, he ran into someone anyway. Zim hit the body, bouncing off and hitting the cement, gir bouncing away and rolling into the gutter. The person grunted and grumbled. "Hey watch where you're g-Zim?" The Irken yanked his robot from the tiny river and finally looked up. That voice of course. Why not add the Dib into the misery?

The human had an umbrella, a stupid, stupid one that matched his stupid face, red from the cold, eyes squinting at him from behind fogged glasses. Zim could almost feel the heat. "What the hell are you doing here?" The teen asked with trepidation. Zim finally stood up, upset when he still only reached the Dib's chest.

"Nothing."

"Oh really?" Dib remarked, eyebrow raised.

"What are YOU doing here, eh?" Zim asked, fidgeting with Gir and casually shuffling underneath the human's rain shield. Dib sniffed, clearly feeling superior.

"I'm just getting back from my karate classes..." The paranormal investigator finally noticed the darkened robot. "Hey. What happened to the thing?"

"The thing...oh. He's damaged. That's why I'm..." Zim trailed off, never finishing his sentence. Dib waited but, eventually got tired.

"I thought you were allergic to water?" Zim said nothing, only shivering under the umbrella, glad for the temporary shelter along with a familiar face even if that face made him want to punch everything to ever exist. Dib sighed, looking around at the steady downpour. "How long have you been out here?"

Zim shrugged. "A few hours, give or take." Dib frowned in response. He knew that Zim's paste only lasted so long.

"So, what are you doing? Running around town, trying to shrivel into a raisin?"

"No! I'm trying to get home."

Dib winced at the word 'home'. Not 'base' or 'house'. Home. Zim had been saying that a lot lately. He look down at the drenched moron with his robot, clenched to him like a lifeline. He looked like a lost kid. A very ugly, very green kid. Actually, he was more like a lost, wet cat.

Dib sighed, realizing at that moment that he had two options. he could walk away, leave Zim to his own devices and that could result in a. Zim looking pathetic and injured on monday or b. his death. The first one appealed greatly. The second one, left him a bit...uneasy which was stupid.

The second option, involved Dib sharing his umbrella and getting the idiot home which would result in Zim alive. And a way to pay off for the time that the idiot saved him from falling through that roof..

Dib sighed again, irritated but decided. There was no way he was going to stay in Zim's debt for longer than possible. "Come on, idiot." He replied, finally, continuing to walk forward through the deluge. Only this time he had a very annoying companion.


	10. Three

_...and three is a pattern..._

They were surrounded, which wasn't altogether surprising. But, it was something he'd been hoping to avoid. Dib pulled out the gun that had been tucked away in the waist band of his jeans. He'd been so sure he wouldn't have to use it. Stupid.

Zim growled next to him, claws out, robot arms protruding from his pak. The zombies, creatures that they had raised (on accident of course), stumbled ever closer, looking pretty damn hungry. One of the faster ones lunged forward, arms outstretched, jaws gnashing and Dib shot it in the center of its forehead, sending the corpse falling backwards, twitching violently. Dib cursed something he hardly ever did. But, this was a special, direr than average occasion. It deserved a few f-bombs.

Zim stabbed one of the creatures through its shoulder, where it flailed around, trying to tear itself free. Dib scowled. "No, idiot. You have to get their brains. It controls the whole body. It's the only way to kill them." The alien ripped the leg from the rotten flesh only to stab the same leg through the zombie's head before it could even recover, making a sickening crushing sound.

"Better?" Zim asked, trying to sound casual. Dib knew that this was pretty much the Irken's worst nightmare come to life. Ever since that Halloween about 5 years ago, Zim had been terrified of zombies to the point where Dib had gone out of his way to dress up as one ever single year afterwards.

Instead of getting a sick sort of glee out of Zim's fear as usual, Dib felt a bit nauseated. He wasn't scared of these things. The paranormal had never made him uneasy like it did many others. Didn't give him goosebumps or sent shivers down his spine. It made him feel responsible. These zombies were his to destroy, so that no one else got hurt. And looking at the poorly hidden terror on Zim's face, Dib felt responsible for making it disappear. And that was just wrong.

He shot another one that came too close. There were still 12 of them, limping into an ever tighter circle to surround them. "You take six. I'll get the other ones." Dib bit out to the irken who slowly nodded. As if it was a cue, the rest of the zombies moved quicker, moaning and screaming if their vocal chords allowed it.

Dib hurriedly shot two in the head, grimacing at the spray of toxic blood and bone. He would need a hard core shower later. From behind him, he could sense Zim frantically stabbing out with his pak legs, shooting with the other two and missing eight times out of ten. "Are you even hitting any of them!?"

"Yes. I've gotten two and uhh, a half." Zim's voice shook.

"A half?" Dib turned and wished he hadn't. A half. Literally. The alien had shot off half of the monster's body, leaving it with half a face, one arm, one leg and it was still crawling with the majority of its brain intact. "God damn it! Shoot them in the he—"

Slimy arms wrapped around his shoulders, his arms, his legs. Anywhere they could get a grip. Stupid, stupid, idiot, moron. He'd freaking turned around to stare at Zim's failed kill only to get snuck up upon. He fought to cock his weapon, ready to shoot and keep shooting but, with all the arms around him it was hard to move very well.

He aimed at a sickly brown arm, rotting in several places, shot it clean off and that was one out of six and who knew if he wouldn't get bitten by then. Sharp metal whizzed past his face and he was free. Dib stumbled forwards, shaking off the twitching limbs. He looked up at Zim to see him retracting the spider legs, a look of rage and nausea written on his face. Huh.

Dib knew that the ones behind him would keep coming, armless as they were so he spun and in quick succession shot all remaining 4 zombies in the head. The blood oozed everywhere, staining the grass with toxic brown sludge. From behind him, harsh moans and cries were coupled with Zim's panicked screeches.

Dib re-cocked his gun and spun to help Zim in case he nee—Son of a bitch, he yelled both out loud and in his head. The alien had gone down with the twitching bodies, fighting but, feebly. The idiot was probably terrified but, also weak. He'd learned that Zim was very uncomfortable with human anatomy. During health class he'd grown faint several times just when learning about blood cells, hearts, and had fainted when he'd been trying to dissect a liver.

The remaining zombies were hunched over Zim, lifting his body towards them, ready to feast. A bubble of something rose in his stomach, expanding in his chest and exploding out from his throat. It sounded like a yell but, felt like anger and fear. He shot the first one in the head, brain going everywhere, all over Zim who whimpered eyes too wide.

The gun re-cocked too slowly for his taste and the zombie's mouth was way too close to Zim's throat, so Dib kicked it in the face, sending its head backwards. It slowly looked up at him and groaned furiously. Dib raised the barrel to the creatures' forehead and shot it. An explosion of covered both of them.

He was panting, like he'd run a mile. Dib looked around for any others they might have missed and saw nothing. He clicked the safety on and slid it back into the waist band of his jean, looking down at Zim who was standing shakily, pak legs limp. He was covered in blood. They both were. Dib didn't know what to say; nothing witty or sly came to mind. Just,

"Okay?" Zim's magenta eyes strayed from where they'd been staring at the limp, slightly twitching zombies up to Dib.

"I hate this planet."

"Well, it doesn't like you either. Maybe you should leave."

Zim scowled, retracting his pak legs. "Maybe you should shut up."

"Make me."

"I would but, I don't think my hands or any form of tape would be able to fit over that big mouth of yours."

They bickered as they burned the bodies. They argued as they walked home. And when they finally went their separate ways it was with insults shouted down the road, in the back of Dib's mind he thought about how they'd saved each other yet again. In Zim's mind it was all part of the war, he'd convinced himself of that.

They went home and they cleaned themselves of evidence of the day's occurrence.


	11. Four

_Again..._

His enemy was located, according to the document he'd stolen, on the sixth floor. Dedicated to the dangerous patients. Accurate. While most of the time, Dib was a nuisance, he was also the most dangerous human on this planet. The only enemy worth fighting. The guards proved to be no challenge. Not for a member of the Irken elite, anyhow.

He shot at a camera that followed him along the wall. It exploded into little pieces, wires short circuiting. A quick glance at the chart. Almost there. Zim winded his way down what appeared to be the same, white hallways. It felt eerie. Where was everyone? Wasn't this a hospital of sorts? Where were the people? Just as he feared he was lost, the door came into sight.

He shot the entrance off, slipping inside and noticing an immediate difference from the rest of the building. It was darker here. Much darker. Only the emergency lights shone dimly against the white walls. It was grungier. And he could tell it was inhabited by people. Their cries and yells echoed off the ceiling.  
Zim nearly turned right back around and ran hallway back up six floors. He shook himself off the irrational fears. Dib was close. Just ten doors to the right. They all looked the same, with no numbers to keep track so he counted them out loud. His own voice startled him. From behind each of the metal doors, he could hear the patients.

They must've heard the ruckus he'd caused. He stood in front of the 10th door and charged up his pak legs to shoot the hinges off, since he did not know the code to open it. Bright pink lasers cut into the metal and it fell inward. Inside, the room was pitch black, the light from the hallway somehow not managing to penetrate the gloom. But, his superior irken eyesight finally managed to grow used to it. In the corner, Dib leaned against the wall, a small grim smile spread across his face. The human had no glasses and his normal clothes were replaced with white pajamas. Dib pushed away from the padded wall.

Bright red lights began to flash, a loud alarm screeched while a deep voice boomed over and over. "security breech." Zim covered his antenna against the horrible sound. The human was right next to him in a flash, hands clenched into fists.  
"Let's get out of here shall we?"

_And again..._

Dib had no idea what he was doing, something that was becoming more and more common as of late. Besides messing around with Tak's ship, his knowledge with irken aircrafts was minimal. That was something he would have to remedy. Right after he safely piloted and landed Zim's voot cruiser somewhere in a nice grassy inlet. His fingers flew over the control panel, pressing buttons that looked like they could be helpful as the ship spiraled to earth.

Zim sat limply in his seat, face surprisingly peaceful in unconsciousness. Dib was going to kill him if this crash didn't. Zim began to slide forward as they fell down, down, down and Dib threw an arm over the idiot's chest so that he didn't slam into the control panel. The pressure from the falling altitude threatened to knock him backwards but, Dib was stubborn and he wasn't going down until he was safe. Until, they were safe.

_And again..._

Zim whimpered. The human had been under water for too long. Wasn't it something like a minute? They could hold their breath until then and then they exploded? He huddled underneath the boy's trench coat, his shield against the sprays of ocean water. "D-Dib…?" He asked the waves to return the boy. When two minutes passed, Zim peeked over the edge and saw nothing but, ominous darkness where Dib had dove in to catch fish.

The whimper turned to a scream. "Dib!" The idea popped into his head that maybe the human was dead and briefly a celebratory sensation took over but, it was snuffed out by the thought of being here alone, of being on earth without the human. It seemed bleak and boring.

Zim let the trench coat drop and put his boot on the edge of their lifeboat, looking into the dark water. This was insanity. This was…stupid and necessary. He held his breath and with only a twenty second hesitation, plunged into the water to find the Dib.  
-

_Then what is four?_

_They saved each other. Again and again. From other aliens, from bullies and poison. From freak weather and crashing space ships. They would never admit to doing it and if they did it would always be met with an excuse. 'It's to repay a debt', 'he has something I need'or 'I want to be the one to end his miserable life'. Which was true in a way. But, neither noticed how the years flew by and the number of rescues piled up._

_It was just another tangle, another knot in a complicated relationship that just grew more and more so that it was hard to tell where Zim ended and where Dib began and vise versa._


End file.
